Nightmares
by The Crazy Breadstick
Summary: Jack Harkness and partner Ianto Jones are valued homicide detectives of the Cardiff Police Force. Through their hard work they brought in a time of peace, but that peace is shattered when a serial killer emerges from the darkness. As they race to catch the killer, more people die and they realize you don't truly know someone till you walk in their shoes and live their nightmares.
1. Precious Rubies

_Hello hello! Welcome to my story! *passes out cookies* I'm not sure if this idea is original, or if it's something you will all like. __I don't normally write Torchwood. Doctor Who is more of my thing. This chapter is also not very large because I'm just testing the waters…__It came to me in my daydreams last night and it stayed on through my night dreams and into my daydreams this morning… So, I'm writing down this persistent little bugger and throwing it out into the world for all of you to see! You know, before I get back to the other four stories I'm working on. I don't normally write this sort of thing so I hope I get some feedback… I wrote this without telling my beta __**Xx-silent-assassin-xX **__and I normally have to tell her __**everything**__ before I even begin writing. O3O Maybe my self confidence is on the rise again! If that's the case, please won't you all review? It'd make my day~ :D _

**Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, nor will I ever own Torchwood. All rights and stuff like that are reserved to the BBC.**

**Warnings for People: (- Well that's a new one…) Graphic violence is almost certain and may disturb some of you. Also, there is a high possibility highly for offensive language and possible sexual themes later on (not lemons though, I don't think I could ever write one). Reader discretion is advised. I rated this M for a reason.**

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nightmare [**nahyt**-mare] : a terrifying dream in which the dreamer experiences feelings of **helplessness**, extreme **anxiety**, **sorrow**, etc.

What a lovely definition for something that was **much** more complicated than that. In essence, that was what a nightmare was, but it was so much… **larger** than that!

He was in the business of nightmares. No one in all of Cardiff knew nightmares like he did. It had started simply as putting spiders in the teacher's desk and releasing a snake into the girl's bathroom. Those were simply seen as childish pranks. However, it evolved. It went from those "childish pranks" to throwing rocks at small children on the playground to beating the stray dog who knocked over the trash cans **every single night **to death. Now t**hat** had felt so _good._ He was only a teenager then…

Today, he was a full grown man. And a murderer. No, **no**, he wasn't a **murderer.** He was a **nightmare.** He was those things that people feared. Those things people were looking for when they checked their showers for, the thing people looked over their shoulder quickly for. For so long he had lurked in the dark shadows, hunting down his prey. So far, they were the people no one would miss.

Once he had them in his grasp, he took them to their new home and would simply watch them starve for **days**. He'd give them food on occasion… but it was only the scraps from dinner. He'd apply some ample torture. A little shock here, a little cut there, and the occasional burn. Nothing to **kill** them. No, he found out what they feared most. Then, he **became** the thing they feared most. No longer did they scream and cry at their phobias. No, they screamed and cried at **him.** Once they couldn't stand their very **existence** because of him, he killed them. Never the same way though. He wanted to try every way humanly imaginable! He was a curious man, after all.

However, he was getting bored of this now. The game was growing dull. It needed something new, something thrilling! It only took him a small time to realize what it needed. He needed **competition. **He needed a** threat**. And he knew just what to do!

In the dead of night, he began to ready his tools down his eerie basement. Swinging back and forth was a simple light that dimly illuminated stone walls. Stained were those walls and stained were the floors with a dark dirty crimson hue. Sometimes the hose just didn't get everything down the drain he sometimes mused. No matter, he liked a change of scenery every once in a while.

In front of him now was the tray that all his ghastly yet sparkling clean tools laid in. They came in various shapes and sizes. They all had different purposes. They were all the tools of his trade. They were all his friends. At that thought, he could not help but think of one of his favorite movies and broke out in a little tone that was surely familiar to some.

"These are my friends," he sang, stroking the tools with a gloved hand, "See how they glisten…"

He stopped on one and snatched it up, studying it with a small smile across his face. He held the pristine scalpel up to the light and continued his song.

"See this one **shine**, how he smiles in the light!" he sang, turning on his heels away from the tray, "My friend~ my faithful friend~"

He stepped around the autopsy table that soon would feel the touch of warm human skin and continued his song, approaching the cage where his victim lay.

The golden hair girl that lay shivering in fear in the cage let out a scream and a broken cry for help, backing herself up against the bars of the cage. Her voice was hoarse, strained from the useless screaming she had done on the first few days she was here. She was dirtied and marred, her clothes torn. She rather smelled too, but who could blame her when she had to lie where she defecated? It probably did nothing for the cuts that littered her body and the bruises that made her whole body hurt… not that he would know, of course! He wasn't the one in the cage was he?

"Speak to me friend. _Whisper…_ I'll listen. I know, I know! You've been locked out of sight all these years. Like me, my friend!" He continued to sing, lowering himself to see level with the iron bars to see through them. "Well, I've come home~ to find you waiting! Home~ and we're together."

His song broke and a rather manic grin replaced his small endearing smile as he said, "And we'll do wonders, won't we?"

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Falling, falling, falling. Sinking, sinking, sinking. The Bringer of Nightmares watched as his latest victim disappeared beneath the depths of the bay. The cold air nipped at his exposed skin, but he ignored it, for he was deep in his thoughts. This wasn't his usual dumping grounds. He had a normal spot that he went to dump the bodies. No one had yet to find the mounting bodies there. That's how he liked it. Or did he? The entire reason he was leaving the body here now was for it to be found. It wouldn't take long; he hadn't tied the body to anything to sink it. No, it'd be found in as little as a day. Sooner, if he was lucky.

The time had come for the Nightmare God to find someone who could match him. He knew who would be put on the case. Jack Harkness and his partner, Ianto Jones. They were decorated officers of the Cardiff Police Force. They had solved so many homicides in their life time; they would surely be able to play his little game of Cat and Mouse. At least, he hoped so. He would be _so_ disappointed if they weren't up for the job. If they proved to be unable to play the game, he might just have to take them out. He really didn't want to do that. He cared for those two. They were so fun to watch. It'd be a pity really.

He was beginning to wonder about his new found decision to let his game be exposed. Was this a cry for help or was this him seeking a challenge? He continued to think it was the latter, but he wasn't entirely sure. There were times where he found this double life extremely hard to live by. There were times he wished he could just **stop.** But, he knew, he was all ready too deep in this. Even if he tried to stop, it'd come back for him. Maybe that's why he was doing this. Because he knew the only way he'd ever really be stopped was by the famous duo. They were almost like the Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson of their time!

Crinkling up his nose, he turned from the dock and made his way back to his car. The game was now beginning. He needed to go home and get some sleep so he was ready to play in the morning. Maybe he'd watch_ Sweeny Todd_ before bed though. That last killing had really put him in the mood for it.

"You shall drip rubies… you'll soon drip precious... rubies."

A grin formed on the Nightmare's face once again.

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_Hope you all enjoyed! Please review! I really want to know if I should continue this or not. Peace out Girl Scouts! Oh! And you're not **suppose** to know who the killer is. :)_


	2. First Stone

_Hello once again! I'm back with Chapter Two. I hope the wait wasn't too dreadful. It's a little short compared to what I've posted in the past, but with my midterm exams coming up soon, I decided that I should get this up and going as soon as possible. I've been in a Torchwood mood lately, so don't be surprised if the next thing you see updated is __**Across the Rift. **__That story is certainly so coming, but since I don't live right next to __**Xx-silent-assassin-xX**__ any more, it's a little harder to write. I'd like to thank her for betaing Chapter Two for me. I really appreciate it. Also, thanks to those who reviewed and followed. It means a lot to me. :) _

**Disclaimer: Torchwood belongs to the BBC. I have no rights to it. :(**

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Time: 7:32 A.M.

Date: January 17th, 2010.

Weather: Light rain at a chilly 43 degrees Fahrenheit.

Physical and Mental Condition: Well in both body and mind.

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Twenty-six year old homicide detective Ianto Jones stepped out of the car and onto the wet pavement. He and his partner, twenty-nine year old Jack Harkness, had just arrived to the location of their most recent homicide. The call that came in early this morning had sounded a little different than what they normally received nowadays. That had excited Jack. The Scottish-American playboy had been exceptionally bored in recent months after they had put away a rather elusive serial murderer and rapist who strangled his victims with a seat belt after sexual assaulting them for hours. They finally caught him after he became sloppy and left evidence on the body of a college student named Tiffany Smith. She had been on her way to becoming a great attorney.

After three years of working on homicide cases together, Jack and Ianto a familiar rhythm they instinctively fell into whenever they arrived on a scene. They knew each other's strength and weaknesses and used this knowledge to their advantage by applying themselves in the fields they were best at. It had made them unstoppable pair that no one could match. Jack was the smooth talker. He used his good looks and charm to get the information and leads they needed. Ianto was the perceptive one and examined the details, making the connections that counted when solving crimes.

They'd arrive on the scene and a police officer (normally a young man named Andy Davidson) would approach them and tell them what they had and who discovered the body. Ianto would examine the crime scene and the body first and thoroughly, to make sure no detail was lost. Once he was done analyzing and writing everything down, it was Jack's turn. He'd talk to whoever discovered the body or any of the witnesses at the scene. Everyone (especially the ladies) gave into his charm and told them all that they knew. Jack normally found out more than most of the homicide detectives. Ianto would record that data as well. Then, they'd go around one more time to make sure they didn't miss anything and interview the people who lived around or frequented the location of the murder. After all of that, they would head back to the office to begin their investigation. The next step after that were the autopsy results and anything could happen from there.

The docks on this side of Cardiff were commonly frequented by fisherman; the Market was only a small ways away. Recreational boaters normally were on the other side of the city. As they approached the scene of the crime, the young Welshman came to the conclusion already that it had been a fisherman who had found the body. Most likely he or she was recovered from the water. His suspicions were confirmed very shortly after the duo was approached by Andy Davidson. Ianto noted that his partner was missing. Then he reminded himself that he due to take on a new partner very soon since Andy's last partner had been killed in action.

"What do you got for us today Andy?" Jack asked as cheery as ever, "Anything new and exciting or just the same old homicide we normally deal with?"

The young blonde shook his head no, expression rather grim as he replied, "No, I'm afraid that it's not a cut and dry homicide. Quite frankly, I think we might have another serial killer. That's just my gut instinct though."

"Oh really? That bad is it?" asked Jack as the two followed Andy who went to show them the body.

"Yes. The victim is a female. Caucasian, blonde, possibly in her early twenties or late teens. Identity is unknown," he explained, flipping through a small notepad, "The fisherman who found the body is over there talking to Tim. He's 47 year old Richard Douglas. He found the body after returning this morning from a long night of fishing. Go easy on him; he's badly shaken up."

"Why is the girl's identity unknown?" Ianto asked as he produced a notepad from his coat pocket. "No identification on her?"

"That and well… take a look for yourself," Andy said as he pulled up the caution tape for the detectives to step under.

Ianto had to steel himself for what was in front of him. Unlike Jack who wasn't normally fazed by the state of the body, Ianto was a bit more susceptible to becoming ill. The state of the body was rather grisly. He could see why the identity of the victim couldn't be determined; her face was bludgeoned black and blue. It appeared to have been done by fists or a blunt object of some sorts. She had multiple lacerations all across her body. Depth and width varied, but the locations seemed to have logic behind them. The cuts appeared to have been done with something that was exceedingly sharp. Perhaps it was done by a scalpel or perhaps a butcher knife. He couldn't be sure which. Her arm was bent at an odd angle; her bone had been broken. He wasn't able to tell if it was post-mortem however. For this poor soul's sake, he hoped it had been after she died. Her body was waterlogged, but that was to be expected. Her skin was peculiarly white though, much more so than he would have expected. Her clothes seemed rather odd. She wore only white dress and from how clean it was and how it fit her body, he made the assumption that she was dressed in the thin garment after her death.

All in all, Ianto was beginning to think from all the damage he was seeing that this might have been a drawn out death. He wasn't certain though. Only an autopsy could tell for sure. That could take a bit, but Ianto had a feeling that another body wouldn't be discovered before it was complete. He hoped so, at least. He wrote down his thoughts about the body and the scene of the crime. Every detail he saw was catalogued for future reference in his trust notebook that no one but he saw. Not even Jack was allowed to peer into the black leather-bound notebook. It was for Ianto's eyes and his eyes only and he'd like to keep it that way.

"Got all of your notes?" Jack asked, attempting to look over Ianto's shoulder to see what he was writing.

Ianto closed the notebook instantaneously, much to his partner's displeasure. **No one** was allowed to read the notebook.

"Yes, I have all the notes I can gather from here," he confirmed.

A grin spread across the American's face and he motioned over to the fisherman still speaking to Timothy (more popularly called 'Tim') with his thumb saying, "Let's go talk to him then while the scene gets processed and the body gets bagged up to go to the lab."

"Sounds like a good idea," Ianto mused and followed the taller and older male over to Tim and Richard.

Richard Douglas was a large man with a scraggily beard and graying hair. He was of a staggering height and seemed to be a bit obese, but that could be just from the abundance of clothes he wore. From what Ianto could see he was wearing large dirty overalls and a raincoat over it. Ianto couldn't help but crinkle his nose slightly from the fishy odor that wafted off his body. He was a fisherman all right.

"We have it from here Tim. Go see if anyone else knows anything, all right?" Jack said, giving the brunette a smile.

Tim nodded and left Ianto and Jack with Mr. Douglas.

"Hello. I'm Detective Jack Harkness and this is my partner, Ianto Jones. We just want to ask you a few questions about the body you found, okay?"

"I already told the officer who just left everything I know," Mr. Douglas began in a gruff voice, "What else do you want to know?"

"Everything you told him. We'll look over the statement you gave him, but we'd like to hear it from you as well. Do you mind if I call you Richard? That is your name, right?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, I'm Richard. My buddies call me 'Moby Dick' though, if you want to call me that."

Jack flashed Mr. Douglas a grin and said, "All right then Moby, why don't you start by telling me what you were doing when you found the body."

"I had just gotten back from fishing last night. I didn't catch much, so I was rather empty handed when I arrived. I didn't see her at first when I pulled into the dock but then I saw her! That girl floating in the water belly up! I about had a heart ache! I pulled her out of the water to see if she was alive, but she was already dead. I called 999 as soon as I realized she was dead," the fisherman accounted.

Ianto wrote down what newly named 'Moby Dick' told Jack, making his own personal side notes as well.

"Did you notice anything peculiar? Anything that looked out of the ordinary or anyone who was around that seemed strange?" Jack asked.

"No, not at all. I'm sorry, I was too busy worrying about the girl that I wasn't really paying attention to much else. Why would someone do that?! Why did she have to be dead? She couldn't have done anything bad enough to deserve the evil that was done to her!"

Jack rested a hand on the big man's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Some people in this world are just sick and evil. I can't say for sure why someone would do what they did, but we'll find out who it was and bring them to justice," he reassured.

"Did anyone come to help you after you recovered her from the way?" Ianto asked.

"No, no one else came over before the police arrived," Mr. Douglas told him.

The questions continued for a few more minutes. In the end, they received little evidence to give them any leads and no new information came out of Jack's smooth talking. Ianto gave Jack a nod and the American took it as his hint to wrap things up.

"Well thank you very much for your time Moby," Jack said, pulling a card from his pocket, "Here's my card; if you think of anything new give me a call, okay? Even if it's something little, let me know. Anything you can tell us may be crucial."

Mr. Douglas took the small white card in his thick fingers and gave a nod of agreement.

"Why don't you take a few days off? Go on a small vacation! I think you deserve one, don't you?" Jack suggested with a wink.

"Aye, I think I'll go visit my son in London," the fisherman replied, "He just had his first baby with his wife. His name is Emmett. I haven't been able to see him yet."

"That sounds like a fine idea, sir," Ianto remarked with a smile, putting his notebook in his pocket.

Jack and Ianto swept the crime scene once more and interviewed a few more fishermen. They turned up nothing new by the time lunch rolled around; there was nothing more they could do but return to their desks and begin working on leads.

As they walked to the car, Ianto felt the sensation of being watched. He had felt like it earlier, but he had brushed it off as curious fisherman. After all, civilians always stood around and watched police work. It always seemed to fascinate them. He looked around, trying to find the eyes that were watching him. There was no one watching him however, so he quickly dismissed it as paranoia. He glanced over at Jack to see if maybe it was him, but Jack was simply messing with his phone…

An awkward silence erected itself between the two and this silence continued even after Jack and Ianto were both in the car. After Jack put his phone away, he put his seat belt on and drove away from the crime scene. Ianto checked the side mirror nearest to him to see if anyone was following them, but he saw no one.

"So, what do you think about this new killer? Jack asked, eyes trained on the road.

"I think they're a sadist," Ianto said, opening his notebook, "I truly do. It's rather apparent from the state of the body."

Jack thought about it for a minute before nodding, "I completely agree! You think he just popped his cherry or he's being doing this for a while?"

"He knows what he's doing."

"Totally agree!"

Ianto began to write the experience in the notebook, writing what he and Jack had said and his feelings about it. So their murderer was a serial killer? Ianto slightly worry what that could mean for them. He still felt like he had been watched at the crime scene… he hoped this wasn't one of the serial killers who stalked the detectives working on his or her case.

"Putting killers and work aside, where do you want to eat lunch? It's about noon and I'm starving," Jack asked.

"Anywhere is fine," Ianto remarked, only looking up from his notes long enough to see the exact time.

"How about some fish 'n' chips then? I'm sure there's a place not too far from here. Besides, the best fish 'n' chips are always along the water! Am I right?" Jack asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jack slyly craning his neck over towards Ianto so he could get a look at the notebook. Ianto snapped it closed before he could and was satisfied when Jack paid attention to the road again, pouting slightly.

"Sounds like a plan," Ianto said with a smile.

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_So was it worth the wait? Let me know by leaving a review. It'd really help me out. Remember, check my profile if you're ever curious about the status of a story. It's posted there. :) Have a great day/night!_


	3. You Stab 'Em, We Slab 'Em

_Hey sorry for the wait. I know it's been months since I last updated by I've had some things going on and only recently have I been able to actually sit down and write/type anything. I hope you all will enjoy this chapter. It took me a while to write and some of the technical terms may not be accurate but then again, all my medical knowledge comes from C.S.I. and Trauma Center so it is to be expected. _

**Disclaimer: Torchwood does not belong to me. It belongs to the proper people like BBC and stuff. **

**Warning: As I stated in the first chapter, this story is rated M for a reason. Things like graphic violence, offensive language, and sexual themes are inside. You have been warned. **

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Time: 2:06 P.M.

Date: January 19th, 2010.

Weather: Cloudy; 45 degrees Fahrenheit outside. 55 degrees Fahrenheit inside.

Physical and Mental Condition: Slightly nauseous but mental prepared for results.

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"I got nothing."

Two days after the body of an unknown female was recovered, Ianto found himself in the morgue with his partner. The corpse was laid out on the table and the coroner, Owen Harper, was mulling over the clipboard in his hand that undoubtedly had the results of any sort of tests that were done on the dead woman. Owen was good at his job and had helped them solve many cases. Without his work, some of their toughest cases wouldn't have been solved. He had a keen eye for the smallest details. Ianto just wished he wasn't such a smart-ass.

"You're kidding!" proclaimed Jack, disbelieving his claim.

Owen shook his head, flipping through the clip board. "'Fraid not. She's clean. No fibers, no foreign hairs, no blood, no semen... No drugs in her system, no food in her stomach. There's practically nothing to work of off."

Jack frowned a bit, "You say practically. That means there's something right?"

Owen sighed a bit, scratching the back of his head, "There's a bit, but not much to go on."

"Anything helps," Ianto remarked, pulling out his notebook so he could record Owen's findings for his own notes.

"Where do I begin..." Owen murmured, scanning his clip board, "Most wounds weren't post-mortem. With no drugs in her system it's safe to say she felt all of it. Her left arm has a compound fracture in the humerus; there's a hair line fracture in her right tibia. Second degree burns on both of her hands... a lot of her teeth are missing due to the trauma her face suffered. It appears to me that an object such as a bat or a crow bar, something of the heavy metal variety is what caused it. Her mandible is broken because of this. All facial trauma is post-mortem however so she didn't feel that much."

Ianto wrote down the information before flipping to a new page.

"What's the cause of death?" Jack inquired.

Owen pointed to her neck. There was a long cute across her throat.

"The cut made here. It sliced through her carotid artery. She would have bled out pretty quickly after that. Quick but certainly not painless... most of the other lacerations were before she died. The one on her neck was the final cut."

"So he tortured her?"

"Yep. Her burnt hands, the fractures, and the cuts... it would be stupid to believe otherwise."

"I can only imagine what he did to torture her emotionally..." the American muttered in disgust. "Was there any sexual abuse?"

"Surprisingly not. No vaginal tearing indicating rape. She's no Virgin Mary though," Owen remarked.

"How so?" Jack asked.

"Signs indicate to her being a hooker! Or a whore. Or a prostitute. Whatever floats your boat."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. STIs and all!"

Ianto frowned a tad as he scribble down notes. If that was the case, finding out the identity of the girl was going to be harder than he initially thought.

"Anything we can use to help identify her?" the Welshman asked.

"Besides what's left of her bashed out teeth? Tramp stamp of a butterfly. Kind of cliché if you ask me," Owen mused.

Ianto finished up the last of his notes as Owen put the body away. The autopsy results ended up being all but useless. All that could be learned was the victim was most likely a prostitute and that the murderer was a sadistic individual, something Ianto had deduced earlier. He also seemed to be good at covering his tracks, something Ianto was not particularly happy about.

"So what has Cardiff's best detectives been up to lately? Y'know, besides hunting down psychos. Anything new?"

Jack thought about it and shook his head and said, "Nothing too out of the ordinary."

Ianto all but agreed with Jack. Nothing out of the ordinary with him.

Owen raised an eyebrow and said, "No? really? Well, that's surprising! No girlfriends or anything?"

"Nope," the American said, popping the P.

Ianto shook his head, "No, not recently. You?"

"Me? Nah, I haven't committed myself to a relationship in years."

"Why not? Good-looking man like you should have all the ladies!"

"You'd think so but I'm lucky to get a lady. Besides, I prefer one night stands."

"Why's that?" Ianto asked.

"I don't have to deal with all the drama and baggage that comes with a relationship that way. No heart-break if it ends, no paranoia about them cheating... it's one night of fun and I'm done!"

"That's a little harsh..."

"Harsh but smart," Owen pointed out.

"If you say so...

The group continued talking about for a while about various topics: work, hobbies, plans for the night. It was always refreshing to talk about something besides work and death, even if it was only for a while. Once that while was over however, it was back to work. They had a lot to get done and with very little leads and it wasn't going to be easy. That was okay though; Ianto knew that he and Jack could get it done. This wasn't their first homicide nor their first serial killer after all. While the two detectives worked themselves to the bone, a new face entered the police station.


End file.
